


A Familiar Feeling

by chali



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Hunk (Voltron), Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Interrogation, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 09:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16595531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chali/pseuds/chali
Summary: Keith gets captured by the Galra during a mission to retrieve information. He's fine with that. Until he finds out Hunk didn't get away like he was supposed to.





	A Familiar Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: I Will Punish Your Friend For Your Failure

 

"Pidge!" Keith stopped and turned at Hunk's panicked cry just in time to see Pidge crumple, a smoking hole in her shoulder where the blast had hit. He sprinted back down the corridor to them, standing protectively as Hunk carefully lifted the Green Paladin into his arms. Pidge groaned, but didn't open her eyes.

"Hunk," Keith said through gritted teeth as he shot down a Galra soldier, another one immediately taking its place, "take Pidge and go. I'll catch up."

"Wh-what? Are you  _nuts_? I can't leave you-"

"Don't worry about it, just go! Pidge needs medical attention  _now_!" Hunk looked at him with wide eyes, then down at Pidge. Then, squaring his jaw and blinking away tears, he nodded and secured Pidge so that his bayard's shield was covering her upper body. He turned back to Keith.

"Don't stay here trying to fight them all. Take the first opportunity you find to get the hell out of here, okay?"

"Yeah, now  _go_!" Keith didn't turn to watch them leave, instead focusing his fire on the Galra that had started to follow them.

He lost count of how many he'd killed, their bodies piling up grotesquely around him. Any that managed to get within arms reach of him earned themselves a slash from him knife, so they focused on shooting at him from afar. He backed up until he was behind a post, giving him some protection.

The way out was clear so far, but he knew that turning his back on them now meant death. So he kept shooting. He reluctantly moved from behind the pillar, backing up as quickly as he could without leaving himself open. The turn was just a few more paces away, just a  _few more paces_ , but before he could take it more Galra appeared, at  _both_  ends of the corridor, a lot more, cutting off the only exit he had. 

There was no more cover to be had, and he prepared himself for pain - but the gunfire had stopped. 

Keith looked at them all and swallowed thickly, throwing down his gun and lifting his bayard instead. He'd always excelled at hand-to-hand combat over shooting. 

As Keith got ready to charge, a large, muscular Galra - the commander - made his way to the front of the ranks. He smirked at Keith, and spoke to his soldiers.

"Don't kill him."

They rushed forward. 

Keith met them head on, swinging his bayard with brutal strength. He cut down Galra after Galra, ducking under their blows and twisting under their arms and sinking his blade into their flesh. They were no match for him. 

But there were just so  _many_.

Keith felt himself beginning to tire, his arms and legs aching, the bruises that he hadn't noticed before making themselves known. He took a shot to the knee, fell with a shout, and was immediately swarmed, bodies piling on top of him.

He roared and swung his sword in a wide arch, driving enough of them back that he was able to writhe out from under their crushing weight. However, before he was able to climb back to his feet, a rough hand grabbed the back of his neck, and the commander slammed his head on the metal floor. He growled through the dizziness and struggled to break free of the unyielding grip, but the commander only ripped off his helmet - painfully tearing at his hair in the process - and slammed his head down again, knocking Keith unconscious.

* * *

Keith woke abruptly when someone tugged roughly at his hair, pulling his aching head upwards. He opened his eyes, and was greeted with the sight of the commander's face inches from his. He managed not to flinch away as the hot, rancid breath blew over his face.

"So, Red Paladin," the commander said, smugness soaking his voice, "you're going to be turned over to Zarkon one way or another, as you surely know. However, you can make the journey to him much less painful if you-"

"I'm not telling you anything." The commander backhanded him, and he saw double for a few seconds as his head rang.

"Hmph, I thought you'd say that. Though, I doubt you'll be saying it for long." Keith rolled his head back around to glare at him again and tell him otherwise, but stopped short at the commander's next words.

"Bring him in."

It was Hunk. Gagged and bloody and terrified. Keith immediately began his struggles anew. 

"Hunk! Dammit,  _why_  are you still-" the commander backhanded him again, and signalled for Hunk to be held across from Keith. Their gazes met, and Keith read Hunk's terror in his tearfilled eyes.

"Hunk," he said in as steady a voice as he could manage, "it'll be fine. It's gonna be fine, the others are coming." He turned to glare at the commander as he raised his hand to strike him again. "You hear me, asshole? The other Paladins are coming for us." The commander unclenched his fist, and instead grabbed Keith's chin roughly, leaning in close again. Keith bared his teeth, and the commander grinned.

"I'm counting on it, Red Paladin. We're going to lead them right into Zarkon's hands. We'll be well rewarded as the fleet that delivered Voltron to the Galra Empire."

Keith grit his teeth and, against his better judgement, spat in the commander's face. He reeled back with a disgusted grunt, and rubbed the spittle out of his eye. He stared at it for a moment, and when he turned his gaze back to Keith he was livid.

He reared back and delivered a kick to Keith's chest that left him unable to draw in a breath, a punch to the side of his head that made him nauseous, a boot pressed onto the bullet wound in his leg that made him cry out in agony.

Hunk was yelling unintelligibly around his gag, angry at first, but becoming increasingly panicked. Finally the commander stepped back, leaving Keith limp and gasping in the hold of the other two Galra on either side of him. He spat out a mouthful of blood, and returned to glaring at the commander.

"The other Paladins  _will_  find us. And they'll destroy this ship, and all of you. We  _won't_  be taken to Zarkon, and  _you_  won't be remembered by  _any_ one-" Hunk's muffled cries were being directed at Keith now, as the commander looked ready to continue the beating. But he suddenly stopped, instead taking a deep breath, and smirking at them both again.

"Regardless of what you may think will happen with the other Paladins of Voltron, you  _will_  give me the information I want." Keith snorted, ignoring the tangy taste of blood in his mouth. 

"I really won't."

"Where is the nearest Marmora base, the one that has no doubt been the cause of so much trouble for us recently?"

"You deaf? I'm not telling you anything-"

The commander nodded, so subtly Keith wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't been glaring so intensely at him - and Hunk received a punch to his cheek that almost knocked him unconscious. Keith gaped for a second, before roaring and trying in vain to wrestle his way out of the iron grips of the Galra restraining him. The commander only continued to smirk and sneer.

"Where is the Marmora base?" A kick to Hunk's stomach doubled him over, coughing harshly around the gag. Keith felt his chest starting to tighten with panic. He knew how this was going to go. He forced himself to speak through gritted teeth. 

"I don't know." Another punch. Hunk sagged.

"Where is the base?"

"I don't know! I'm not even  _with_  the Blades of Marmora-"

"We found a Marmora blade in your possession. We know what this means."

"I'm not with them-"

"Where is the base?"

"I don't know-"

Another nod. They held Hunk's shaking hands in front of him, and the commander knelt next to him and gripped the pinky of his right hand in sharp claws. Keith gulped, and met Hunk's eyes. Hunk met his gaze with his own teary one, and shook his head. The panic clawed it's way further up Keith's chest.

The commander pulled - Hunk's finger snapped. He howled in agony. 

"Where is the base?"

"I don't know."

_Snap_. 

"Who on my ship is a Marmora agent?" 

"I don't know. I'm not-"

_Snap_. 

"Where is the Marmora headquarters?"

"I - I don't know."

_Snap. Snap_.

"I'll ask again. Where is the Marmora headquarters?"

"I don't know."

He moved on to the next hand. Hunk sobbed.  _Snap_.

"You know," the commander said in a sickeningly calm, almost conversational voice, "he almost got away." Hunk's eyes snapped open, but Keith could only focus on the commander's words, dread and guilt settling in over the panic. "He was  _just_  about to get into that Lion of his and escape - if  _you_  hadn't been taken down so  _quickly_ , he would have gotten away."

Keith was vaguely aware of Hunk shaking his head, trying to tell Keith something around the fabric in his mouth, but all he could focus on was how this was  _his fault_. He'd known it anyway, but to have it confirmed, with Hunk barely a few metres away from him, scared and hurt and still in danger - this was so much worse.

The commander was still talking.

"Do you really want to cause your teammate any more pain? Just give me the information I'm asking for, and neither of you will be bothered again until we reach Zarkon. Otherwise,"  _snap_ , "there will be much more suffering to come."

"I - I don't - I don't  _know_. I don't know anything. Please-" Keith bit his lip. This wasn't good. The commander was winning, he was breaking him, and he could tell. His smile widened, and he reached for the next finger. Hunk was cringing with dread, tears pouring down his face -

" _Please_! I don't know anything about the Blades - I don't know anything that you want me to tell you! Leave him  _alone_! Fuck!"

_Snap_. 

"I'm sorry, Red Paladin. I just don't believe you."

He reached for the next finger - and fell to the ground, smoke rising from the hole in his head.

Hunk scrambled slightly in panic, but Keith  _sobbed_  with relief when he saw Lance -  _Lance_ , gun still raised - at the doorway, taking in the scene before him with mounting horror and fury. Shiro appeared behind him, and Keith felt tears stinging his eyes. He blinked them away roughly. No time for that.

Taking advantage of the Galra's distraction, he twisted his arms out of their grip and grabbed a sword from one of their waists. He slashed at their legs, and as they fell connected the blade with their throat. He heard the other one fall beside him, and made a mental note to let Lance know just how impressed he truly was with how far his sharpshooting skills had come. 

He tried to stand, but immediately crumpled again after putting pressure on his wounded leg. He settled for dragging himself forward to Hunk, leaving Lance and Shiro to take out the rest of the Galra. Hunk shuffled forward as much as he could without jostling his mangled hands. When they were within reach of each other, Keith immediately reached for the gag - stained with saliva and sweat and tears and blood.

"Fuck.  _Fuck_ , I'm sorry. Hunk. I'm  _sorry_."

With shaking hands he managed to dislodge it, pulling it down to hang around Hunk's neck instead. Hunk coughed roughly.

"K-Keith - I didn't-"

"Guys!" Lance appeared by Hunk's side, examining them both with teary eyes. Shiro crouched next to Keith.

"Keith, can you stand?" Keith swallowed thickly and shook his head. Shiro nodded and lifted Keith's arm around his broad shoulders, hoisting them both up as Lance did the same with Hunk, albeit much more gently. Hunk bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut, groaning in pain. Keith hated himself for it.

Together, they made their way through corridors strewn with bodies, until they reached the Lions. 

"Can you guys fly?" Shiro asked as they approached. Keith nodded, and saw Hunk manage to do the same. They all glanced at his hands, broken and bent out of shape.

"Yellow will help me. We'll manage." They nodded, and Lance helped him to his lion. Shiro squeezed Keith's shoulders briefly before releasing him to climb into Red.

Keith stumbled to the cockpit and sat in the pilot's seat, wanting nothing more than to sink into it and let the reassurance of safety from Red wash over him. But he couldn't. He saw the Yellow Lion rise next to his. He needed to make sure Hunk got home. He had to at least do that.

It was unnecessary, though. Whatever damage Lance and Shiro had done meant that their escape was unhindered by any fighters. 

Nonetheless, the others got back to the Castle first, Keith having slowed Red down enough that he covered the rear. By the time he stumbled out of Red, clutching the sluggishly bleeding hole in his thigh, Lance had already taken Hunk to the medbay. Shiro was waiting for Keith, face cold and hard with worry and anger and fear and exhaustion. Keith swallowed thickly and looked away. 

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" Shiro responded immediately, leaving Keith at a loss for words. Instead of waiting for an answer, Shiro lifted Keith's arm over his shoulder and started walking, the tight grip on Keith's wrist meaning he had no choice but to follow. They limped towards the medbay, not saying anything. They entered to the sound of Coran's voice. 

"... broken ribs, and a nasty concussion. Your fingers are definitely the worst, though they're all clean breaks. We just need to set them before we put you in the pod, so that they don't heal wrong. It'll hurt, I'm afraid, my boy."

"Th-that's fine, Coran," Hunk replied, looking pale. "It has to be done." Shiro let Keith over to the next bed and sat him down, and Keith watched with a sickening feeling in his gut as Coran took hold of Hunk's fingers and, one by one, pushed the bones back into the correct position.

Hunk somehow managed not to scream, instead biting his lip hard enough that Keith saw blood welling up between his teeth. Lance's shaking hand was on his shoulder, and they both had tears streaming down their faces. By the time it was over, they were all as pale as Hunk.

Hunk took in a sharp, shuddering breath, and suddenly turned to face Keith. His eyes were burning with tears and pain and tiredness and some emotion that Keith couldn't quite identify. He couldn't hold the intense gaze, and dropped his eyes. Shiro's hand landed on his shoulder reassuringly, somehow only making Keith feel worse. 

"Keith-" Hunk's quiet voice was drowned out by Coran's forced cheer.

"Now then, Number Two, let's get you into a pod, quickly now!"

"But-"

"It's fine, Hunk," Keith said, wishing his voice didn't sound so hoarse. "I'm fine. Just go." Hunk looked ready to protest more, but a glance at Shiro seemed to change his mind. Keith tried not to wonder why.

As Coran helped Hunk into a pod Shiro turned back to Keith. 

" _Are_  you okay?"

"I'm fine. The pod'll heal it quick enough-"

"That's not what I meant. Are  _you_  alright?"

Keith looked at him, and he looked back solemnly. Shiro had always been able to see through Keith's lies and masks, and usually he appreciated it immensely. Now, it only made him feel exposed.  _Weak_. 

"I'm  _fine_ , Shiro. Just - tired."

Shiro looked at him and sighed, and Keith knew he wasn't buying it, but was still grateful when he relented and helped Keith to climb into the pod next to Hunk's. The last thing Keith saw before darkness claimed him was Shiro's worried eyes.

* * *

Keith woke up after Hunk, surprisingly. Coran explained that it was because, despite Hunk having several broken bones, Keith had ended up losing a considerable amount of blood from the gunshot to his leg, and had quite a bad concussion.

He accepted the multiple liquid pouches Coran shoved at him, and looked around the empty room. He tried not to feel hurt that Shiro and Coran were the only ones waiting to welcome him. 

"So... where is everyone?" Shiro seemed to pick up on his wounded confusion immediately.  _Damn_. 

"They  _were_  waiting for you and Hunk to both come out. They'll be really annoyed that they missed you. It's just - well, no one had eaten anything since we got back, and Hunk wanted to make sure he could still - use his hands, I guess." An image of Hunk's gagged, sweaty, agonised face flitted across Keith's mind, and he could almost hear the bones snapping again - he swallowed bile, and nodded. 

"If you're hungry-" 

"I'm not." He cut Shiro off, perhaps a bit too abruptly, but the older man only nodded. 

"I get it. Okay. But you will need to eat sometime, Keith. And Hunk is really wanting to talk to you. But I'll make sure you get some space while you freshen up, maybe get some sleep, too." Keith nodded, and accepted Shiro's outstretched hand to pull himself up off the floor. 

"Well," Coran said, looking Keith up and down and stroking his moustache thoughtfully, "you don't seem to be too dehydrated, and your injuries are definitely all healed. I suppose you're clear to go." Keith nodded and turned to leave, but Coran snatched him by the back of his suit and spun him around to face him again. He met Keith's wide eyes with his own serious ones. 

"No. Training deck." 

Keith pouted as Shiro chuckled behind him. 

* * *

Keith obeyed Coran's order for all of twelve hours.

Honestly, he was impressed with himself. Shiro had also managed to uphold his end of the bargain, meaning when Keith entered the kitchen after a shower it was to find a generous bowl of food waiting for him, but none of the other Paladins there to make a fuss.

Keith was horribly, selfishly grateful. 

Eventually, though, after forcing down some food goo and lying awake next to Shiro - who had outright refused to leave him alone, as he honestly had some kind of special sense that let him know whenever Keith was feeling like shit - he had given up, and snuck into the training deck in the small hours of the morning. 

"Level Four, let's go." 

He was panting harshly, sweat making his t-shirt stick to his back, and his muscles were aching. He met the drone head on anyway. 

He couldn't get it out of his head.  _Hunk_.

Hunk in pain. Hunk crying. Hunk terrified.

Because of him. Because he hadn't been strong enough to just once, just  _once_ , protect his teammates. Because of him, Hunk might not be able to use his hands properly again. Because of him, Hunk was probably going to have nightmares for months. Because of  _him_ -

" _Argh_ -"

Keith crashed to floor, the hit from the bot making his head ring. He saw the bot raise its sword to strike again, and shut it down quickly. He rotated his aching jaw, and poked his tongue around his split lip. He groaned, and hung his head.

"So much for 'sneaking some training'," he muttered to himself as he rose to his feet, only slightly unsteady.

His stomach rumbled, and he glared at it, feeling betrayed. He had eaten barely half of what Hunk had left for him earlier, having felt ill with guilt and exhaustion, and was suffering the consequences now. He huffed a sigh and trudged to the kitchen, remembering how he had survived a whole year in the desert on far less, and wondering when he had become so damn  _comfortable_  with so  _much_ -

He entered the kitchen and stopped. He stared. Hunk stared back at him. It was silent. Keith suddenly found his appetite was gone, and spun on his heel to leave. 

"K-Keith, wait, please!" Keith stopped in the doorway, shoulders tense and hands clenching and unclenching by his sides. He didn't - couldn't - turn.

"How-" he cleared his throat to rid the hoarseness from his voice, "how are your hands?"

"They're fine," Hunk said quietly. Too quietly. Keith clenched his fists tightly, and felt his shoulders rise to his ears. " _Really_ , Keith. They're a bit tender, but Coran said that's only temporary. They'll be fine.  _I'll_  be fine. Are you-"

"I'm sorry, Hunk."

"'S-sorry'? What on earth are  _you_  - wait. Wait, hold on. You-"

"You almost made it out. I - I should have - I should've been able to  _stop_  them. But I wasn't, and I didn't, and they - I'm sorry. For being too weak-"

"'Wea'- are you fucking kidding me, man?" Keith's eyes widened at the expletive - had he  _ever_  heard Hunk swear? - and he turned just enough to reluctantly meet Hunk's eyes. His  _furious_  eyes, Keith realised. Furious? When Hunk spoke, his voice was low, almost a growl.

"Keith, do you  _honestly_  think that I - that  _any_  of us - would just - just -  _abandon_  you? That we would leave you behind to face an entire Galra ship  _alone_?  _Seriously_?" Keith frowned.

"You had to get back to the Castle. I was trying to make sure it was clear for you to escape, with Pidge, like I'd said. And the commander said-"

"Yeah, he  _lied_ , dude. Of  _course_  he lied. I wouldn't..." his face suddenly fell, anger replaced with something so devastated that Keith had to look away again. "You really thought I was going to leave you." It wasn't a question, but Keith found himself nodding anyway, too dumbfounded by the newfound knowledge that Hunk hadn't actually abandoned him - someone had actively decided to  _not_  abandon him - to deny it. 

"It was the logical thing to do, Hunk. I wouldn't have blamed you-"

"Would  _you_  have left  _me_?" Keith felt his breath leave him, and looked back at Hunk with wide eyes. Hunk looked solemn, and continued, "Would you have left Pidge, or Lance, if they had been in your situation? Would you have left  _Shiro_?"

"Wha- of  _course_  not, but that - that's different!"

"How is it 'different', Keith, tell me? How is you trying to save our lives any different to us trying to save yours?"

"Because - because I'm just-"

"Just what, Keith?" 

"I'm just -  _me_." Hunk gaped, and shook his head, apparently at a loss for words. Keith took advantage of his silence and barrelled on, tripping over his words. "I mean, I - you and Lance have your families back on Earth and Pidge still has to find Matt and her dad, and Shiro - Shiro is - I owe  _everything_  to him, and he's been through so much already. I'm just - I have no one, no family or anything. No one would miss me if... look, if it's a choice between saving my life and saving any of yours, I think it's pretty obvious what the right choice is."

He finished, and took a small, shuddering breath, and looked anywhere but at Hunk's face. From the corner of his eye he saw Hunk starting to approach him, and had to dig his fingernails into his palms to stop himself from bolting.

He didn't know what he was expecting, but the sharp rap across his head definitely wasn't it.

"Wha-  _ow_! Hunk,  _what_?"

Before he could look up at Hunk, he was pulled forward, face buried in a broad chest, arms pinned to his side by the outright bear hug that Hunk was inflicting upon him. He felt tears soaking his shoulder.

Hunk squeezed, and Keith wheezed. 

"That's not true," Hunk's voice was so quiet that if his face hadn't been right next to Keith's ear he probably wouldn't have heard it. " _None_  of that is true, Keith. You're not  _worthless_." Keith felt a sharp pang in his chest as he recalled the harsh word thrown at him by countless foster parents and school bullies.

_Worthless_.

"I don't know why you think you are," Hunk continued, "and frankly I don't care  _why_. You just - you're  _not_  worthless, buddy. You gotta know that. You mean so  _much_. To me, and to Shiro. And to  _all_  of us. Even Coran and Allura. Even  _Lance_. You're  _important_ , not just as a Paladin of Voltron, but as our friend. Hell, as our  _family_. We're a family, Keith. We aren't going to abandon you, man. Not ever."

Keith opened his mouth, hoping to find some words to comfort him, and somehow ended up saying, "You don't know that." Hunk's grip only tightened.

"Yes, I do. I don't know what's happened to you in the past, to make you think otherwise, but I promise you, I  _promise_ , that we will not leave you. We won't, Keith. And I'll make you believe it, somehow. Just watch."

"Th-that's not - I don't need-"

"Keith, I love ya, buddy, but seriously. Just shut up. And let me hug you." Keith's chest was still tight with guilt and nervousness and anger - but now, now he felt something else, too. A fear.

He focused on it, as he slowly brought his arms up to return the hug, and realised that yes, he was afraid. He was afraid of letting himself get - comfortable. Of allowing himself to accept this kind of companionship when for so long, nothing else like it had lasted. He was afraid. But he also felt something  _else_. Something that he recognised, but couldn't quite place. 

Finally, Hunk released him and stepped back, and they both spent a moment rubbing the tears off their faces. When Keith looked up again, Hunk was frowning at him, and he subconsciously frowned back. 

"Dude, what happened to your face?"

"Huh?" Keith suddenly remembered the training deck, and registered the metallic taste of blood in his mouth and the dull throb of his lip. "Oh, yeah. I, uh, kinda got my ass handed to me on the training deck..."

"Ugh,  _dude_ , Coran told you  _not_  to go there for exactly that reason!"

"Yeah..."

Hunk sighed, "Come on, I'll make you some space tea. I was making myself some food anyway."

"But your hands-"

"They're really okay, Keith. I promise, I'll be fine. I was scared, and it was  _really_  quiznacking painful, but we're both fine now." He looked at Keith until he nodded, then gestured for him to sit.

As Keith sat at the table - hands warming around his mug of tea, listening to Hunk mutter and hum to himself as he hopped from counter to oven to sink, the smell of his cooking wafting around the kitchen - he felt it again. That warm, warm feeling.

The same feeling he felt when he looked at Shiro. The same feeling he felt when he looked at any of them.

_Keith, I love ya, buddy._

_Oh,_ he thought to himself, amazed. _That's what it is._

He smiled, and drank his tea.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed it you can request another prompt from my Bingo card on my Tumblr - cha-lii


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